old peaches and persimmons, alligator pears, and everything squashy like that. When he wouldn’t do anything “cause it was honest and square and straight and ‘cause it was what he should do ’cause Molly wanted him to, why that very same thing he’d do for Lolly if she’d give him a kiss or pat him a little or laugh at him or coax him along with a petting party. I like Molly ’cause she ain’t any all-day sucker. She just comes to the point and she knows what the point she’s coming to is before she starts for it. There ain’t any meandering about Molly!”
The Scout Master showed in deft hand work the straight way that Molly went.
“And I reckon, if I was grown up and wanting a job to earn money at, that I’d rather have the job Molly’s got than any job in the world.”
“You surprise me,” said Jamie. “You astonish me! I’d have thought teaching school was the last profession in the world that you’d choose.”
“Yes, but in these days there’s different kinds of teaching school,” said the Scout Master. “The kind that Molly does isn’t the kind you’re thinking about. It isn’t shut up in a room and staying in one place and doing the same thing over and over. The kind Molly does is called ‘teaching Americanism.’ Did you ever know how good-looking and how interesting a lot of little round-the-world children can be—a lot of little Italians and Greeks and Spaniards and Indians and Hawaiians and Japanese and Chinese, cutest little brown things with big round eyes? You ought to hear ’em sing ‘My Country
